


I Was Calling Out To You

by theinvisibledisaster



Series: It Comes and Goes in Waves [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hurt Clarke, Other, POV Bellamy Blake, Protective Bellamy, Violence, it's a lot, there are a lot of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 12:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16598279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinvisibledisaster/pseuds/theinvisibledisaster
Summary: Bellamy's POV of chapter 19 of IDNYL, because people asked and I'm a people pleaser at heart.You definitely have to have read the rest of the story to understand this, so if you're interested, here'sI Don't Need Your Love (I Just Need You Now)and if not, I hope you have a lovely day! <3





	I Was Calling Out To You

**Author's Note:**

> This one's for Meg, because she asked, and I can't help myself.   
> [Go check out her fics, they're great!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chant_de_lune/works)
> 
> Title comes from a lyric from the Dean Lewis song "Need You Now" which is where the title of the original fic is from too, because I'm going to continue the tradition of using his lyrics for this series. Oh, did I mention I've made this a series? Apparently I have more stories to tell in this universe, so look out for that!!!! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

The first thought he had, once his ears stopped ringing from being repeatedly smacked over the head by Murphy, was that he could hear her pacing. 

The audio equipment was exceptional, and he could hear the rustle of her clothes and the tap of her footsteps as she moved around her office. 

There were cameras too, three different angles, but he could barely bring himself to look at them; to look at Clarke putting herself in such a vulnerable position. It was almost too much to hear her.

He quickly pulled out his phone to text her, but it seemed Murphy had beaten him two it, and the two messages sent within seconds of each other. He wondered what Murphy was saying, but upon further thought, he decided that he probably didn’t want to know.

It looked like he was about to get yelled at again, but Emori shook her head at Murphy in an attempt to calm him down, and Bellamy shot her a grateful look.

Then, there was a knock on Clarke’s door. 

His head shot up and everyone became visibly tenser. Emori was gripping Murphy’s hand like a vice and Raven was cracking her knuckles nervously, staring at her laptop as if that would fix the situation.

 _“Ready to go?”_ Cage’s voice was muffled through the wood, but it still had Bellamy curling his hands into fists on his knees. 

_“Come in.”_ Clarke said, and her voice sounded steady, but Bellamy knew her better than that. 

There was a small pause before, _“You don’t look ready to go out.”_

Bellamy heard her take a breath, and he managed a glance over at Raven’s laptop. He could see the way she was standing; tense, like she was about to sprint for the door. He, on the other hand, looked like he was enjoying her distress. 

Shit. 

_“You don’t look happy to see me,”_ Cage moved closer to her and she stepped back, hitting her desk. Bellamy saw the sick grin on his face for barely a second before he looked back down at the ground. Cage sounded too happy, _“what’s wrong, Clarke?”_

_“I need to talk to you.”_

_“I can see that. What’s got you so… worked up, babe?”_ Bellamy reacted to the suggestive tone like there were hot coals under him, springing to his feet in an instant and storming towards the stairwell. Murphy and Emori leapt up with him, standing between him and the door. 

“Get out of my way.”

“No, Bellamy, she’s okay,” Emori said calmly, “let her do this.”

“If he touches her, _then_ you can go down and rip his arms off. Right now, she just needs you to be _here,”_ Murphy said, a hand on his chest, pushing him gently. 

Bellamy shook his head, agitated, but he returned to his place on the bench. “When did you get so wise?”

“Must be all the exposure to you; it's like radiation poisoning,” he remarked, and Bellamy managed a small smile. 

It sounded like Clarke had given Cage the file, because he was waving her off, and she was getting mad.

 _“Look again,”_ she said, her voice strained, _“because that looks like more than just a hit-and-run to me.”_

Bellamy’s heart sank. This whole situation was hard enough for Clarke without bringing up the murder of her best friend. He understood why they picked it; it made sense that she would look into it, and it was something she had proof didn’t happen, because she was there. That didn’t change the fact that it was horrible thing for her to be going through. For the hundredth time in the ten minutes, Bellamy wished he was down there with her. 

_“What do you want from me, Clarke? I know you were there, I know you know what really happened. Are you trying to ask if I knew what was going to happen to Wells before it did?”_

“Yes, that’s exactly what she wants to know, asshole,” Bellamy snapped. 

“Not helpful,” Raven pointed out to him. 

“I’m not here to be helpful,” he scrubbed his hands through his hair again, “I’m just here for Clarke.”

Raven only tutted, but Diyoza was looking at him with something unreadable in her eyes, something that he probably didn’t want to think too hard about. He refocussed on the audio. 

Cage was mid-diatribe, _“…police reports, witness testimony, even found crime scene photos, I bet those were hard to look at.”_

He was taunting her. 

Bellamy felt another surge of anger, and it was only Clarke’s quiet voice that kept him still. He was here for her – he wouldn’t screw this up. 

_“Yeah,”_ her voice was barely a whisper, _“but I needed to know. After it… happened… everyone made me feel like I was crazy. I knew it had been a coverup, I knew people were threatening us so we didn’t talk, but it’s been six years and all I have is the memory of seeing my friend shot in front of me, and a hundred witness statements saying there was no such shot. I just… I needed to know. For myself, I- I needed the closure.”_

Bellamy closed his eyes. This evening was a sham designed to bait Cage into confessing, but that didn’t make Clarke’s words any less true. His throat constricted and he swallowed, hard. 

Cage seemed unbothered, if a little curious, _“So you thought you’d ask me?”_

_“I… yeah.”_

_“What do you want me to say, Clarke? That my father ordered the hit? That he knew your friend was going to die before it happened?”_

He held his breath. 

_“I can’t do that,”_ Cage said, and Bellamy exhaled angrily through his nose. His right leg started bouncing; frustrated energy looking for an outlet. 

“Come on, Clarke, get him to say the words,” Raven hissed, flipping her phone over in her hands nervously.

Then Wallace spoke again and Bellamy felt his universe warp with the words, _“I can’t do that, Clarke, because my father didn’t have any idea what was going to happen to Wells Jaha.”_

His head shot up to the monitor in surprise. Cage was leaning into Clarke, invading her space and she was clearly uncomfortable. She was rigid, defiant, but he just tilted his head closer.

_“ **I** ordered the hit. I took the shot **myself**.”_

Raven dropped her phone. 

“Oh my god.” That was Diyoza.

“That son of a bitch.” Murphy snarled. 

Emori trained her eyes on Bellamy immediately, but he couldn’t stop staring at Cage as the man prowled around the room, that self-satisfied smile still pasted on his face. He wanted to rip it off. 

“He admitted it. Now Clarke just needs to stall him long enough so that she can get out of there,” Diyoza muttered.

“Shit,” Murphy breathed. When they all turned to look at him, he pointed at the monitor, “Clarke.”

Clarke was completely frozen in shock, but her utter panic was visible in her eyes, and it was going nowhere good.

“We need to get her out of there,” Bellamy was on his feet again, “she needs to get out, right now.”

Diyoza turned on the mic, “Clarke? Clarke, can you hear me?”

Clarke didn’t respond, but even on the laptop screen, they could see the tears pooling in her eyes. It hurt. Bellamy was watching her and aching at her pain. The only thing in the world that he wanted was to remove that pain from her eyes. He was across the roof in no time at all, his hand already on the handle when Diyoza called out to him. 

“Bellamy.” 

He inclined his head, “I’m going down there, and there’s nothing you can say to stop me.”

“She needs _you,”_ Diyoza said, holding up the microphone. “Bellamy, she…”

 _Well, fuck._

He sprinted back, snatching the chord from her outstretched fingers. He stared at Clarke’s immobile figure even though all he wanted to do was look away. She was shaking, tears creeping along her lashes, and he could see the panic taking over. 

“Clarke?” He asked, and her eyebrow twitched slightly, “Clarke, it’s me, okay?”

She started shaking her head, her knees buckling under her own weight, and he felt the oxygen being sucked out of his lungs at the sight, like if she fell, he would never be able to breathe again.

“Clarke!” He yelled, and she flinched, suddenly gasping for air. She gripped at the edge of her desk and hauled herself upright, drawing in painful gulps of air. He tried again, “Clarke, can you hear me? Clarke, please, _please,_ if you can hear me, I need you to _breathe,_ okay? Don’t think about it, don’t think about that night; that’s what he wants, Clarke, he wants you afraid, he wants you running scared.”

He paused a moment, letting his head drop while he tried to get his own breathing back under control. He was gripping the mic too tight, but he didn’t care. 

“Bellamy, you good?” Raven asked. 

“Yeah, I’m f- I’m fine.” His chest shuddered when he sucked in a deeper breath and lifted the mic closer to his lips, “C’mon, Princess, just breathe.”

“You’re one to talk,” Murphy snarked, and he heard the dull thump of Emori’s fist hitting his shoulder. 

“I know there’s nothing I can say to make this okay, I know, I _know,_ I’m so sorry, but you’ve got to do this. You’ve gotta do this, because you’ve _got to get out of there.”_ He was practically begging her, desperately searching for anything that would bring her back to earth, back out of that goddamn office. He flicked his gaze back up to the screen, where he saw Cage’s face, twisted in pride as he looked upon Clarke’s, and Bellamy clenched the fist not holding the mic, because he was worried he was going to break it if he did. He’d never been so angry in his life. “You’ve got to make it through this because Cage is standing _right there_ and he’s _watching you.”_

He watched her look up at that, saw how her hands gripped the edge of her desk so hard he could practically see bone. She still looked beyond devastated, but there was something else in her eyes now, something like… determination. 

“I’m so, so sorry, Princess,” Bellamy said, trying not to let his voice shake with all the emotions he was holding back. This wasn’t his rage to possess; it was Clarke’s. “You can do this. I’m _right here,_ I’m not going anywhere. _I promise, Princess,_ I’m right here.”

She lifted her arms from the desk crossed them over her chest, and he could have cried in relief at seeing the fire back in her stance.

 _“You murdered Wells Jaha, still a teenager, barely a man yet, but already a good one… and for what?! Why?”_ She already sounded better. She was using the anger to focus herself, and he couldn't help but relate, letting the frustrations building in his chest clear his mind.

Cage shrugged, _“he was in my way.”_

“He’s going down,” Raven folded her arms and spoke to the laptop, “you hear that, you slimy motherfucker?! You’re going down for a very long time.”

Clarke looked furious. Bellamy was almost terrified for Cage. There was a storm in her eyes. _“How?! How could he possibly have been in your way? He was nineteen! He couldn’t even drink yet!”_

There was silence for a moment and they sat and watched, helpless to do anything, as Clarke came to a realisation. 

_“Thelonius,”_ she said, and it didn’t miss Bellamy’s notice that she’d left red on her watch: she was bleeding. _“He wasn’t disrupting Dante’s business at all, it was yours. We all thought it was retaliation for Jaha prosecuting one of his men, but that wasn’t it, was it? That man was a fall guy – whatever crime he committed – you did it.”_

 _“Clever girl,”_ Cage said, smugness oozing through his pores, and Bellamy was going to reach through the screen and stab him, or torture him, or kill him. Anything was better than sitting on a roof and watching him crawl under Clarke’s skin. 

“I’m going to murder him,” Murphy said aloud, and Bellamy almost snorted at how accurately it was mimicking his own thoughts. 

Cage was grinning, _“and he was getting close to me too. Closer than anyone else has ever gotten to uncovering the real empire I’ve been running beneath my father’s nose. Well… closest, apart from you.”_

Bellamy realised where he was going with the statement about a second before he said it, and all he could think to do was yell, “Clarke, get out of there, now!”

Her eyes widened and she darted to the left but he caught her and yanked her back, throwing her against the wall so hard a frame fell off its nail. 

Bellamy tossed the mic down and launched himself at the stairwell, hearing Clarke scream out for help before the door swung shut behind him with a heavy clang. It was a horrible, deafening noise; it sounded far too final. _No, no, this isn’t over,_ he thought desperately as he vaulted over the railing and landed on the flight of stairs adjacent to her floor. _I’m coming Clarke, I promise, just hold on._

He was sprinting past the elevator, when he heard a high-pitched scream that wasn’t Clarke. Moments later, a dark-haired woman rushed past him in a blur, calling for security and screaming hysterically. 

There was a loud roar from Clarke’s office, and he rounded the corner, seeing her door just as it flew open and Cage ran out. He stumbled forward a few steps before he looked up and saw Bellamy. His mouth curled into a snarl, and he changed direction and sprinted the opposite way down the hall, a knife sticking out from his shoulder at an odd angle. 

He wanted to go after him, but he needed to know that Clarke was okay first. 

_She had to be okay._

He reached her door only seconds after security descended on it, and he tried to shove them out of his way, but they pushed him back.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, son?” One of them asked, putting a hand on his holster, indicating his willingness to shoot. 

Bellamy swallowed, weighing up the pros and cons of getting shot just to get through, but if he did, he might be dragged away before he could see Clarke. So he took a deep breath and held his hands up in surrender, stepping back. 

“I’m sorry, just, _please,”_ he stuttered, “she’s my, I can’t, she’s- I…”

His throat felt like it was closing up, and his heart was half a beat away from giving up entirely. 

“Please, I need to get in there! _I love her._ She’s- she _needs me, please,”_ he begged, and the bigger man finally relented, stepping aside. Bellamy burst through, shaking off the hands of the men in the room as he did, levelling a glare and growling, “Get out of my way.” 

When he saw her, on her hands and knees on the floor, his heart fell into his shoes and his stomach clenched and his legs couldn't hold him up anymore. He dropped to the ground in front of her, the shock of the impact rocketing through his knees, but he barely felt it. All he could think was that this was his fault. _Why didn’t he talk her out of this? Why the fuck had he stayed away so long? **This was his fault.**_

She looked up at him through a curtain of her hair as she sat back on her knees a little, her eyes searching his for something. She reached for his hand, but he wasn’t sure if he could touch her. She looked so fragile and he didn’t want to hurt her any more than she already had been. He would never be able to live with himself if he did. So he avoided her hand, lifting his own to her sides to make a show of checking for injuries. 

She shook her head weakly at him, her voice barely audible, “Bellamy, I’m okay.”

“Like hell you are,” he growled, anguished, and she pulled her hair back, exposing the cut along her collarbone. He felt the sudden urge to cry and attempted to tamp it down. He couldn’t be there for her if he was a mess. 

“Really, Bellamy, he just cut my shoulder, I’m not even sure it was deliberate, and I…” she trailed off, squeezing her eyes shut, “I managed to fight him off, I caught him in the shoulder, it’s okay, Bellamy, I’m okay.”

She had stabbed Cage, she had fought him off _herself._ He would have been beyond impressed if he wasn’t worried out of his mind. 

Their friends ran in, he could hear their footsteps behind him, and his mind started spinning out wildly. All the ways they could have screwed up, all the scenarios where Clarke didn’t make it out of there alive; they were all spinning around his brain, torturing him, snatching the air from his lungs. Diyoza started talking to the guards and Ontari, ushering them out of the office, and he would have thanked her if he could move.

Murphy threw something at the wall and it smashed loudly, making Clarke flinch, which made Bellamy reflexively want to hurt Murphy. He wanted to hurt anything that put that scared look on her face. Emori and Raven knelt down on either side of her, both of them shooting him worried looks before they devoted their full attention to Clarke. Emori started inspecting her wound and Raven just gripping her blood-soaked hand.

He saw the welts on her skin where she’d pressed her nails into herself, the bruises already forming on her neck, the slice across her clavicle, the fear in her eyes, the deathly pallor of her skin, and it broke something inside him. 

“I’m gonna kill him,” He said quietly, and she opened her eyes again, blinking as she refocussed. Their eyes met, and he was lost in hers for a moment, damp earth meeting an endless ocean, and she stared back with just as much intensity, reading him like she always could. 

She shook her head almost infinitesimally and her voice was hoarse when she spoke, “he’s going down, Bellamy. Two days, that’s all it’s gonna take, and he’ll be behind bars. Maybe less, if Diyoza is as good as she says she is.”

“He deserves to fucking _suffer,”_ Murphy snapped from behind him, and Bellamy could hear him pacing. 

“Yes, but that’s what we’re trying to do, remember?” Clarke said slowly, like she was explaining the concept of addition to a child.

“Clarke, look at you! Are you seriously telling me you don’t want him dead?” Murphy kicked the desk angrily and Bellamy couldn’t help but agree, anger flaring again. 

“Well he might be already, considering I just _stabbed him!”_ She yelled back.

Bellamy gritted his teeth. “Might be”, wasn’t good enough, not for him. If he had to put the knife in Cage and watch him bleed himself, he would, and he wouldn’t feel an ounce of guilt. Not for a man like that. 

She seemed to see it in him before he could say anything, and her eyes flicked back down to his, “Bellamy, don’t do this. If you go after him, you’re just putting yourself in the middle of it. What if you get arrested too?”

 _It would be worth it,_ he thought, _if stops breathing, it’s worth it._

“I don’t care. I’m gonna kill him.” He rose to his feet, trying not to look at the expression of utter desolation on her face, and charged towards the door. 

“Bellamy, please,” she begged, and he froze, his hand on the doorframe. Her voice was cracked, broken, and he felt the weight of it push down on him again; just how much of this was his fault. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at her, not wanting to see the ways he was disappointing her reflected in her pupils. She called out again, which must have been a strain on her voice. “Please, you _promised.”_

He was wrong earlier. 

_This_ was what broke him; the sound of the complete and total hopelessness in her voice as she implored him to stay, because she needed him. But he couldn’t be there for her. Not right now. Not like this; with anger seething through every pore and his heart pounding so aggressively he could feel it thumping in his fingertips. He wasn’t any use to her like this. He couldn’t be what she needed him to be, and it snapped him in two. His face crumpled and then he did the hardest thing he’d ever done, and walked away.

* * *

* * *

* * *

“Bellamy,” Murphy was jogging behind him, “come on, Blake, wait the fuck up!”

He pressed the button for the elevator and turned to face him. 

“You have as long as it takes for that to get here,” he folded his arms expectantly. 

Murphy eyed him up. 

“Look, I know there’s nothing I can say to stop you going after Cage–”

“–you’re right, so why are you trying?”

“Because Clarke NEEDS YOU, _you jackass!”_ Murphy shoved him in the chest and he stumbled back a few steps, not expecting it. “She’s needed you for WEEKS and you’ve kept your distance! I know that’s because you don’t want her to be afraid of you, but Bellamy, _she’s not._ You’re about the only person she _isn’t_ afraid of. She trusts you. God knows why, but she does. That woman in there, _she loves you.”_

The elevator arrived with a gentle noise that seemed far too sweet for the atrocities that had taken place in the building. 

_She loves you._

Murphy darted into it while Bellamy got his bearings from the multiple verbal gut-punches he’d just received. He was so stunned that he didn’t even argue with the man riding with him down to the lobby, he just stared at his distorted reflection in the metal doors. 

_She loves you._

“You know what she’s like,” Murphy continued as if he hadn’t just rocked Bellamy’s sense of self to the very core. 

_She loves you._

“If you get hurt going after Cage, she’s going to blame herself,” Murphy kicked out at the walls aimlessly. “She’s going to tear herself up inside, and if you think you can actually put her through that without destroying yourself in the process, then you’re not as in love with her as I thought you were.”

The doors bounced open. 

Bellamy didn’t move. 

The moment stretched out as he tried to rearrange his universe in his head in a way that made sense. 

The doors tried to close, but Murphy kept holding them open, waiting for him to speak. 

“He _hurt_ her, Murphy,” Bellamy finally said, his voice so much smaller than he wanted it to be, and his chest started heaving with shuddering sobs. Murphy just stood by his side, not saying anything, not making any move to leave. He just let him cry. 

Bellamy's face was in his hands, “He hurt her and I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t do _anything,_ I–”

“–can make that up to her. Not that she even blames you for it in the first place. If you do this, you will ruin that. She would never blame you for Cage’s actions, but rest assured, she can hold a grudge if you ignore her direct orders.”

Bellamy couldn’t help it; he snorted, ducking his head and wiping the tears from his cheeks. 

The elevator doors tried to shut again, and he stuck a hand out, catching them. They slid back. 

He swallowed.

He stepped out of the elevator and started heading through the lobby. 

Murphy sighed. “Where are you going?”

Bellamy shook his head and looked over his shoulder at him, “I’m not going after Cage.”

His eyes widened, “you’re not?”

“No. I’m not. You’re right, Murphy, Clarke needs me – she needs _us_ – right now more than ever. I would rather be with her, making sure she’s okay, than hunting down Cage. Like you all keep saying; he’s going down. Probably harder than ever now that he’s assaulted a woman in her office. I’m backing off.”

“You’re…” he squinted, suspicious, “are you serious?”

“Yeah, Murphy. I’m going to her place. I’ll grab some clothes and some of her things; I think it’s probably best if she stays at mine for a little while – her apartment isn’t exactly full of good memories.”

Murphy stared at him a moment longer before he nodded and pressed a button. The elevator doors started sliding together. Just before they did, Murphy yelled out, “Glad to see you finally got your head out of your ass, Blake!”

* * *

* * *

* * *

The route to Clarke’s house was easy and the traffic was light, so it didn’t take him long to pull up to her apartment building. 

While he rode up, he ran through a list of supplies in his mind, so he could make sure to get everything Clarke needed if she was going to stay at his. 

He stepped onto her floor and froze. 

There was light spilling out from under the crack in her door. 

_There was someone in Clarke's apartment._

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think????
> 
> Thank you so much for reading it, I really appreciate each and everyone one of you. I love your kudos, and your comments always make me blush and flail around a lot, and I'm amazed that people are so invested in this story. So THANK YOU.
> 
> <3 <3 <3


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